


your worst bet

by tanyart



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Implied Relationships, M/M, Pining, Pre-Canon, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 09:29:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19196164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: Dredgen Vale gets a glimpse of his future with Hope.





	your worst bet

It only took Vale one shot from Thorn to put down the errant Shadow. The body fell to the ground without fuss, without a sound or a fight. Vale had shot the Shadow from behind, through the head, and the lingering hunger of the bullet devoured the Shadow’s Ghost, piece by piece.

Vale felt the Light break, snapped clean like a thread, and with it the Darkness that had festered too long within the Shadow. He dropped his arm, letting Thorn rest against his side as its own Darkness leaked a cold mist against his thigh. Under normal circumstances, he’d let the Man with the Golden Gun hunt the Shadow down for a time, feed the fire of rumors and fear among the Dredgens. But, as it was, Vale had seen the opportunity for a quick death and if anything, he saw practicality in ending the Shadow’s life sooner than later.

Vale thought of letting the Void dissolve the rest of the body. Trouble was, it wasn’t going to leave a mark, and Vale wanted his — _Shin Malphur’s_ — work to show.

As if summoned by his own thoughts, Solar energy lit up behind him, the sound of a Golden Gun echoing loud. Vale whirled around, quicker than what he would allow himself to show, and saw…

A Hunter. Plain armor, plain cloak. So unassuming in appearance that Vale knew it had to be deliberate.

The Shadow’s body turned to flame. Vale didn’t have to look to see how it would smoulder before imprinting black ash to the rocky ground. All his attention was on the Hunter. The back of his neck prickled, cold unease settling deep within his chest.

He had heard nothing, _felt_ nothing. Not many beings could have snuck up on him like this, and not many had a draw as fast as his. The only reason Vale hadn’t fired Thorn at all was the fact that the Hunter hadn’t shot _him_ first, when given every opportunity to do so.

The Hunter’s Golden Gun disappeared. Vale’s finger slid to Thorn’s trigger and, carefully, he brought it up to point it at the Hunter. The Hunter didn’t seem threatened. Matter of fact, he seemed to expect it, only pausing for a moment before tilting his head. The gesture could have meant anything, but Vale had the distinct feeling the Hunter was amused.

The Hunter’s helmet flickered, transmatting away, and Vale was met with himself.

Vale scowled. The image was perfectly familiar, like looking through a mirror. The Hunter’s face, however, wore a crooked smile, as if he appreciated the irony while Vale certainly did not.

“My name’s Shin Malphur,” said the Hunter, his words hanging in the air without infliction; it was a statement of fact.

“You are not.” Vale had already seen himself through so many reflections. He was used to hearing voices in his head, most of all his own. This one was no different, though it had taken a shape. He felt nothing from seeing this mimicry, and Vale could have laughed at the thought of being hunted by another man with a Golden Gun, claiming to be Shin Malphur.

“What? You want proof?” the Hunter asked, smiling again. This time his smile was bitter, filled with teeth, and his tone was sharp. “I know you.”

“Do you?”

“And everything that you have made others to believe,” replied the Hunter, and closed his eyes to tell Vale the story.

The Hunter recited his life, with none of the flourishes the legends held or the grandiose retellings of tall tales. He told Vale's history in tiny details like the color of sand when the sun shone over Palamon, a favorite dish his second adopted father would make, the way Jaren would fix his smile like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with a sullen boy as his charge.

Then, the Hunter went on to tell Vale of things that will come to pass — no longer in details, but in vague sweeping ideas; he will lie, and he will kill, and it was never going to end.

By now Vale had lowered Thorn back to his side. The Hunter leaned back on his heels, his lazy posture just out of habit, but Vale would’ve felt better if he knew if he was being mocked or not.

“I’m from the future. Your future,” said the Hunter. “Anythin’ you wanna know?”

Vale scoffed. “Would it matter? I am already on the Hated Path. If you say you're from the future then there’s nothing you can change.”

It must be a vision, or a whisper gone ambitious. Vale didn’t trust him, couldn’t trust him, even if the Hunter spoke the truth.

“Really? Nothing at all?”

“Nothing,” Vale repeated.

Shin Malphur’s lip curled. He asked, “You met Hope yet?”

 

* * *

 

Vale’s room was far from being the safest spot to continue their conversation, but Shin had no complaint as Vale keyed in the code to the door. Each soft pulse from the control panel seemed to count down the seconds through Vale’s fingers, reminding him that Shin likely knew every number and pattern — yet waited as if he didn’t.

The door slid open and Shin stepped inside first. He didn’t spare the room a second glance for all the books and papers strewn around the place, walking through it all like he’d done it too many times before. Because he probably had.

Vale’s jaw clenched so hard it arched. He didn’t know why it made him so furious, seeing himself — this probable future of him — be so… _familiar_. He stepped in, pass the threshold, and let the door slide shut behind him. The sound of the lock activating was one of finality.

Shin reached Vale’s desk, stopping to glance at the scattered contents over the surface. Vale saw him brush his fingers over the books and unfinished papers, almost curious, then as if sensing Vale’s impatience, Shin turned around to face him, bracing his palms against the desk so that he could lean back on them.

Shin crossed one ankle over the other, posture deceptively relaxed, and flashed him a sly grin. Vale stared, the change in demeanor so sudden his thoughts froze for a moment before realization hit.

Shin tipped his head to the side, lazy, and all Vale saw was the way Hope would stand, watching in that careful way of his.

“What d’you wanna to know?” Shin asked, drumming his fingers. Restless hands. Like Hope, always moving them. “How he kisses? Fucks?”

Vale wasn’t sure if the drawling tone had meant to remind him of Hope, or if that was entirely himself, being spiteful. Either way, all the questions burned out from his mind, replaced by a sudden flare of hunger. He had thought about it on some nights alone, or when Hope would stand too close to him during their quiet talks. There were so many wishes and wants, all of them fleeting fantasies he had entertained to the point of fixation.

How would he, _how would they—?_

How did Shin _know?_

It was all his fault for sinking so low. Vale could acknowledge it. Shin seemed to know it too, when every single thing they did was so calculated — that, or it could really be the temptation of a whisper, a fevered dream.

But Vale needed to know, and he wanted nothing more than to pry the answers from this distant future of himself.

He crossed the room a few quick steps, burning so hot he was surprised his hands didn’t scorch through his gloves when he grabbed Shin by the collar and yanked him forward. If that had been Hope waiting in his room like that, he would, he _would_ —

“Tell me,” he snarled, and growled when Shin grabbed him by the back of his hair and crashed their mouths together.

It was a fight, and if Vale was burning, Shin was the wildfire, and Hope was the spark that caused it all. They struggled with each other for a moment, the two of them wanting differently, until Shin angled his head, yielded for one sweet victorious second, and then bit Vale’s bottom lip hard. Vale jerked back, tasting copper, and wondered if Hope would really be that bold.

Or that scared.

Shin bared his teeth, stained with flecks of red. He licked the color away, knowing Vale would watch his tongue run across his teeth. With an infuriating amount of confidence, Shin put his mouth near Vale’s ear, the roughness in his voice a perfect match, “Well? Hope always waits for you to make the first move.” His hand went to Vale’s chest, as if to keep him at bay. He added dryly, “He’s always so cautious ‘round you.”

That, Vale could believe. Shin’s hand over his chest was steady, but Vale could imagine it — the nervous twitch of Hope’s fingers playing over him. Hope was jumpy, wanted safeguards against everything, and Vale got the feeling nothing in the world would change that.

Vale licked his bleeding lip, gratified when Shin’s gaze went down to stare. It was petty, but it was better than feeling like he was floundering. Would Hope do the same? Look at him like that? Vale narrowed his eyes, hot blood thrumming through his veins. He pulled forward.

Not even Shin, playing acting as he was, could hide his sardonic expression as Vale demanded another kiss. Vale shut his eyes from it, wanting to picture Hope. Hope’s mouth being brutal and sharp against his, Hope’s hands gripping his sides. Wary, like Shin said, but still falling into him, pushing off the desk to demand something back.

There was anger, too. Vale could feel it behind each biting kiss. It didn’t matter if was Shin making a parody of it. Vale knew, deep down, Hope would kiss him like he was cornered into it, all mean and devouring desperation, but that was better than nothing at all.

Shin groaned, and Vale’s imagination had carried him so far the sound left him gasping back, wanting more. He made a noise of protest when Shin stepped away, trying to chase after his own bruised lips.

Shin let him, passive and unmoving. Against Vale’s mouth, he asked, "Has he left you yet?" And then, at Vale’s sharp inhale, he sighed. "Ah."

Vale drew back, head spinning. He breathed, shallow, hands curling at Shin’s shoulders, like he was actually holding onto Hope.

"He hasn't,” he said, surprising himself with a bitter smile, “But… it doesn’t shock me that he would."

Shin shrugged. “You always knew he would abandon the Shadows.”

Vale couldn’t help but look to the side, face heating up with what he knew was weakness. “...When does he leave?”

Shin looked at him, weighing. For what felt like too long, he didn’t answer. And he still didn’t answer when he made his way to the bed, pulling off his belts and dropping them to the floor.

He jerked his head towards the mattress. “On your back.”

Vale surprised himself with how fast he complied. He stumbled over to the bed, heart pounding. When would Hope leave? Didn’t matter, since he’d find out soon enough. And maybe it was better if he didn’t know.

Vale sat on the mattress, fingers digging into the sheets, too conscious of the ache between his legs. Shin glanced down at him, waiting, and Vale fell back, wondering desperately.

He would. If Hope wanted him on his back. _Especially_ if Hope wanted him like that. Didn’t matter if Hope asked, or pushed. Maybe he’d put himself on his back, like now, reeling with images of Hope leaning over him, eyes dark and hungry like Shin’s.

Vale knew he’d do it. He’d do it without question.

When Shin touched him, palm against the hard outline of his cock, he moaned and canted his hips up, trying to get more friction from the fabric of his pants. _Humiliating_ , but he got this far with Shin, and in the end it was only himself.

“Do we…” Vale gritted his teeth. “Does Hope like fucking me with all my clothes on or what?”

Shin stopped for a second to undo Vale’s pants, movements rough enough to make Vale hiss out a warning.

“Sometimes,” Shin said, shoving his hand down, rubbing over his length in retaliation, “He gets _impatient_.”

Vale arched into his touch. The only reply he could muster was a harsh little noise from his throat as Shin pulled out his cock, already wet and dripping at the head. The relief didn’t last long. Shin let go of him, leaning back as if to enjoy how exposed Vale was, how shameless he must look, though his expression was more scrutinizing than not.

Indignant at being judged, Vale shot up to grab at Shin but Shin grappled with him, taking him by the wrists and shoving Vale back on the bed.

"He's scared of you,” Shin said, panting, still gripping his wrists tight.

Vale stopped struggling. Unexpected frustration welled inside him. "I _know_."

"He's terrified of every single incarnation of you," Shin repeated, soft, but before Vale could answer, he smirked. "He'll want to take control. You think you'll let him?"

Vale stilled. Then he flattened himself into the mattress. Shin must’ve felt his wrists go lax under his hold because his expression twisted and he laughed, sharp.

"Oh, _c'mon,_ " Shin scoffed. His laugh had a mean ring to it, crueler than any whisper of Darkness. “I forget how badly you wanted. You think we roll over that easy?”

Vale scowled.

“You think Hope will let you?” Shin said, bending over him. He braced his weight against Vale’s hands, eyes glittering when Vale pushed back and didn’t let himself be pinned. " _I know you_."

Something in Vale threatened to burst. He wanted to deny it. That this Shin Malphur knew nothing — had forgotten how it felt to want and try to not want. With an angry snarl, he ripped free from Shin’s hands, only to drag him back down with both arms around his shoulders. He could feel Shin resist, taken aback, but he took his chance to kiss his other self, hard enough to hurt, thinking only of Hope.

“ _Then show me. Tell me how._ ” Vale knew his own words were muffled, covered by his frantic kisses, but Shin made a thready noise at his lips, finally, _finally_ sounding pleased.

Vale drank it all up, the sheer force of his desire making him blind for the moment it took him to put one hand at Shin’s hip, imagining the dark hair at his face to be Hope’s. He tugged down Shin’s pants, and choked back a noise when Shin rolled his hips into his.

They were both hard, almost unbearably so without any real touching. Shin took them both in his hand, working them over until his palm was wet and messy with it. He let Vale’s imagination run wild with shuddering hints at his ear — _he knows you like it like this, he knows how you want it —_ and Vale, dizzy with every single thought of it, moaned loudly, too close to the edge.

He didn’t want it to end, didn’t want to stop thinking about it, but Shin kept talking, fueling his fantasy, and Vale had to press his hand over Shin’s mouth, just as Shin arched, and Vale’s hand ended up at his throat instead.

Oh,” Shin gasped, eyes fluttering shut. And maybe picturing it too, how Hope would groan and shiver. He pushed forward against Vale’s hand, and let out a stuttering sigh when Vale’s fingers squeezed lightly around his neck. “He likes _this_.”

Vale didn’t last any longer after that. He came in Shin’s hand, ears ringing from the white hot pleasure spiraling down his body.

He kept his eyes shut, listening to the small noises Shin made as he took care of himself, feeling him shudder and spill across his own stomach, still pretending it was Hope and not caring if it was all too easy to do so.

Vale let go of Shin’s throat, grimacing a little when Shin’s messy hand planted over his messier stomach, spreading their come together. Did Hope like this? Marking him? Vale felt his face heat up, but Shin quickly wiped them down with the sheets and the lingering fascination disappeared.

Vale opened his eyes. Shin was staring at him. “What?”

"He comes back, you know,” Shin replied. He dropped down next to him. “Not to you. But… he comes back. In your life. It won’t be the end."

“It never is,” Vale said, wry, then stopped as Shin pressed in close. His chest tightened. "How long do I wait?"

"A very long time," Shin confessed, and sat up on his elbow to kiss him slow, and Vale would have called it reverently, if only he hadn’t known who Shin was pretending to be.

Confused by the sudden gentleness, he let himself be led into a trail of careful touches. A hand at his cheek, another caressing along the line of his jaw.

“He likes this, too,” Shin murmured, pressing more kisses at his throat, and Vale could only freeze against him, like he was caught in time, everything slowing down despite his heart speeding up.

It was unbearable. Vale caught one of Shin’s hands, pulling it away, but Shin’s fingers threaded through his, and Vale had never felt so helpless.

The entire room was quiet. Shin didn’t make a sound and neither did he — and Vale had always known Hope hated the whispers. Hope would like the quiet, just like this.

But Vale didn’t want to admit how good it felt to pretend it would happen like this, with Hope drifting off next to him, fingers tangled together with his. He didn’t mind if he was being toyed with, teased by the idea of just fucking around with Hope, but this was a different thing all together. _This_ , he couldn’t imagine ever happening.

“No,” he said, so inaudible he thought he must have whispered it in the far corner of his mind.

Shin was merciless. More painful than any cold, devouring gun to his head. He said, "You'll wait so long for this. He won’t be the same person, and neither will you."

Vale hated himself for the hurt in his voice. Blood trickled from his ears, deafened by the roar of whispers in the silent room. “ _Liar_.”

Shin bent his head, gifting Vale with one last soft kiss against his mouth that burned with the truth; “And you’ll spin enough lies to get there.”


End file.
